Silent
by OleanderAshes
Summary: Reno gets in Trouble. Rated for Language.


Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. I just borrowed Reno and Rude for a short period of time and i promise to put them back where i found them. :)  
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Authors Note:  
This is just a short Reno drabble. Something i couldn't get out of my head. I may or may not continue it, depending on if anyone likes it. Sorry if some stuff is off, Its been a while. Lemme know what you think.

_(anything in italics is Reno thinking to himself)  
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Three rings. This was the sixth time I'd called and at three rings I was cursing and wanting to smash my cell phone on the pavement.

Four rings...

_*beep* _

"Leave a message."

Man of many words, was Rude.

"...Rude, man I need help. I'm down in Sector Four on Sixth, just past the intersection at Twenty Third. Dude, they come outta fuckin nowhere man! Got me boxed in good. Ammo aint gonna last." I snap my cell closed and toss it onto the floorboard beside me.

It's the middle of the goddamn summer and here I am crouched in the backseat of my car, brick wall and broken glass to my right, the crumpled front end of a newish model jeep to my left, pinning both doors shut. The choking, stifling heat was pressing in on all sides and I could feel sweat running in rivulets down my back and sides. Streaking down my face and forehead, stinging my eyes.

"Shit, Shit, Shit!"

My once sleek, black, beautiful sports car was smashed to shit. I loved this car. She was my baby, the first big thing I bought when I started cashing that Shinra paycheck. As someone who grew up in the slums, you learn to cherish shit like this cuz you basically had nothing growing up.

"Fucking Assholes!!!" I screamed, firing three rounds over the door of my baby into the side panel of the big fucking truck blocking the street.

"Ahh! Stop wasting your ammo dumbshit.."

I hadn't seen anyone in a solid minute. They'd stopped firing and.. nothing.

"Trying to lure me into a false sense, I see how it is. Fuckin bastards! God damned fuckin assholes!"

One minute. One whole fucking minute since the fuckers stopped shooting. Seven minutes since that fucking jeep swerved headlong into my lane and smashed me into a fucking wall. Which was exactly twenty seconds before said big ass truck and its twin blocked off the streets almost exactly thirty feet away in either direction.

"… No alleys. No doorways. Fuckin windows perfect for sniping. Only fuckin sixty feet between intersections… Fuckin setup that's what is… Fuckin planned out shit."

I hunkered down further behind my drivers seat, trying to stay outta the line of sight of the office window across the street. There was only one that looked almost directly onto my position.

"Need to think. Need to think. Need to move. Need to get outta this fuckin car! Fuckin deathtrap!"

"Fuck! Rude, man! Where you at when I need you!"

_They have to be maneuvering for a shot, that's the reason they stopped shooting. They're making their way to that damn office window. _

_Or sneaking up to plant explosives. Or taking their sweet fuckin time aiming that rocket launcher. _

"Shit!" _Paranoia thy name is Reno…_

_No, they're definitely trying for that sniping position. That's what I would do. _

_Right now I'm pretty well hidden behind my drivers seat of a shield, but what if they have thermal. _

_Oh who am I kidding! They have planning, and jeeps, and big ass trucks, of course they have thermal! _

"Damnit Reno, you gotta move now!"

I dive through the shattered passengers side window and feel my face and palms skid on hot pavement and broken glass. Scrambling up and away from the bullets ricocheting off concrete, I leap onto the hood of my car and then up again and to catch the bottom rung of a fire escape. A second later and I'm swinging through a window and into Joe Shmoe's corporate office as I feel hot lead pierce my right shoulder and the back of my upper thigh. Impacting with the hard floor I feel the bones in my wrist snap, shooting searing pain up my left arm. Skidding and smearing blood across cracked linoleum I come to a crashing stop against a water cooler which immediately topples over, sending water cascading over me and a five gallon bottle cracking against my skull.

"Ahh!" curling into a fetal position and clutching my abused head.

"Fuckin, Shit, Son of a Fuckin Whore!"

_Get up bitch, you gotta move!_

Crawling up out of the bloody water pooling around me I begin my shambling way towards the first fire exit I see.

_Thank god its Sunday. Fuckin civilians, always fuckin screamin, all in the way and shit._

I stumble down two stairwells and back out onto Twenty Third with the humidity rolling over me in a wave.

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Its twenty minutes later and I'm limping my sorry ass through the front entrance of the Shinra building, shooting death glares at anyone within sight.

_Fuckin pussies, bet they're fuckin shittin themselves right now. _

I always thought one of the best perks of being a Turk was the intimidation factor.

_And yanno, the license to kill. _

_Yeh... That's nice too._

Across the lobby and passing the guards without so much as a "Fuck You very much". Into the private elevator, my face to the retinal scanner, and easy as pie, I'm shooting towards Turk headquarters on the Sixty Eighth floor.

_*ding*_

I limp my way through the common room, making little squish sounds with every step, to the second office on the left, and send the door swinging into the wall with a crash.

Dripping water and blood on new Berber carpeting, I glare towards the man slowly henpecking a report behind his computer screen.

"Where is your cell phone?"

Rude peeks over the top of mirrored lenses. "Eh?"

"Your phone… Silver, about yea big" making a rectangle with my hands. "Where?"

The six foot something, bald man behind the desk pats down his pants pockets before quickly producing said phone. "Have it."

"On?"

He flips the screen open and nods.

"Silent?"

Eyebrows and forehead contract as he studies the screen. "Eh."

"Messages?"

The big man presses a key then holds the speaker up to a heavily earringed ear. "…Sorry?"

_*sigh*_

"I'll be in medical."

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Review? Pretty Please..


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